The Note and the Nightmare
1166 Words
Meet me in the wine cellar. Midnight. Come alone.
I looked at the note. My heart raced more than it should have. I was not meant to desire this. I was meant to feel just dread. But rather, heat climbed up my neck and sat between my knees.
He wished for my solitude.
I was leaving.
Twelve o'clock.
Cloaked in velvet shadows, the estate was peaceful. Slipping past the guards and along the corridor decorated with old oil paintings of deceased Viscontis, my shoes quietly clicked against the marble.
Reaching the door to the wine cellar made me pause.
This was not a good plan.
Still, I opened it.
The chilly air struck me right away. Heart thudding with everyone, I carefully descended the stone steps.
"Close the door behind you."
He was already speaking. Hanging around.
I followed orders.
The sole illumination in the cellar came from one old lamp. Though I wasn't here for wine, bottles lined the walls.
I spun around.
Sleeves rolled to his elbows, forearms tattooed, mouth tight, he was resting against the far wall.
You arrived.
You knew I would.
He pushed off the wall and came at me. I struck the wood of a wine barrel with my back. Trapping me in, his hands came down on each side of me.
I ought to be kicking you out of here.
You're not, though.
I loathed his correctness. I despised how badly I desired this. Him. We.
Angelo, why did you depart back then? I cracked my voice.
Since I was guarding you. From what I had to become into.
You vanished. You made me think you were dead.
He clenched his jaw. "Would you rather I dragged you down with me?"
I said softly, "Yes."
His eyes grew darker.
Angelo, you are poisonous. And I'm already intoxicated on you.
He pressed his lips on me.
The kiss was insane.
Smashed into one explosive touch, there were nine years of sorrow, yearning, and rage. Fingers grasped at zippers and buttons, hands knotted in hair. The floor was struck by my clothing. His belt clattered on the rock.
We did not make love.
We waged a battle.
When it was finished, we lay entangled in the chilly stillness of the cellar, our breathing
"If I told you I still dream of you screaming my name, would you run away... or beg me to make it real again?"
My breath caught in my throat. Angelo stood inches from me, the flavor of his kiss still scorching on my lips from last night in the dungeon. Now his eyes became darker. More untamed. Like I was the only air he could breathe, he seemed to have gone nine years without oxygen.
Gazing at the sliver of dawn pushing through my bedroom window, I said, "You shouldn't be here." Should Silvano discover you—
He interrupted me. Allow him. I am finished concealing. And I’m over pretending I won’t remove you from this beast.
My heart raced. I ought to have ordered him to go. I ought to have yelled. I moved closer instead.
Angelo, this is risky.
His lips turned into that twisted grin that made me weak in the knees. You are, too, Rory. That's what gives this enjoyment.
Like a guy who hadn't tasted sin in years, he caught me by the waist and kissed me again, forcefully, breathless. I returned his kiss.
Up to then… someone knocked on the door.
"Rory, darling?" Silvano was it.
I pushed Angelo in the direction of the closet. Hide!
He stayed still. Not at all.
Angelo!
One more knock. This time louder.
Just one second! I shouted, my heart pounding.
Angelo at last shifted into the shadows just as the door opened.
Silvano stood there in a silk robe, a silver ring shining on his pinky.
You seem flushed, he remarked. You seem flushed. "Are you okay?"
I had a bad dream.
Eyes searching, he entered the room. I breathed in.
A bad dream? About what?
I lied, "My wedding."
He chuckled, but his eyes remained unaffected. Clever girl. Fear makes brides faithful.
His fingers grazed my cheek, causing me to wince.
"In an hour, breakfast," he remarked. Put on the diamonds I gave you. They sparkle best in the morning light.
I agreed.
He departed turning. I breathed once the door snapped shut.
Angelo emerged from behind the curtain.
You were touched by him.
Don't begin.
I will murder him.
You will not. Not at this time. We require a strategy.
He came closer and wrapped his hands around my waist. I already possess one.
I was tense. What do you mean?
You and I go. This evening. There are folks outdoors. A waiting aircraft.
I declined. "No. If I disappear now, he’ll kill my father."
Angelo's jaw tightened. Then we bring Silvano down first.
He runs the Visconti empire. You don't only bring him down.
We then accomplish the unthinkable.
Angelo.
He tightened his hold. You are not remaining here to decay in this jail. You are not wed to him. First, I'll set fire to the whole damn home.
His words made me giddy. But also dread. Angelo's irresponsible behavior would kill us both.
Allow me three days, I said. Let me approach him more closely. Let me look for something we may utilize.
He squinted. In three days. Just that.
Before sliding out the window into the early mist, he kissed me one more.
Later that day, Silvano's study was where they led me.
A large desk separated him from a huge open ledger.
"Sit," he instructed.
I did so.
He looked at me for a long time. Then: "Rory, do you know what I love most about you?"
I gulped. "No."
You seem like a girl who has never sinned.
I grinned feebly. Appearances may be misleading.
He laughed. Certainly.
He then pushed a manila packet across the table.
I opened it.
Photos. Many of them. I. Angelo. Last night. The peck.
My blood stopped.
Did you believe I wouldn't learn? he said, voice as cold as ice. Did you believe you could walk away breathing after betraying me?
Silvano.
He smashed a fist down. You believe you're the first small girl to fall for a Visconti man? Betrayal built me this empire. On blood.
I made my voice consistent. What do you wish for?
He reclined, grin icy. Kill him, I want.
I blinked once. "What?"
Angelo. You murdered him. Tonight. And perhaps... Perhaps I will save your father.
I looked at him.
You're crazy.
He rose and circled the desk. His fingers pressed toward my chin.
Not at all. Your future husband is me. Should you wish for your father's life to lead you down the aisle, you will follow precisely what I say.
I pulled back from him.
He said, "Get out."
I sprinted.
Night descended.
Tucked into my coat, I waited by the courtyard fountain.
Hands in his pockets, Angelo came out of the shadows.
- Writer
